Starlight
by WildHurricane
Summary: One-shot in the Beautiful Mess verse. Blaine is back on tour. He hasn't seen Kurt since he left New York almost 2 months ago, and their daily phone calls after Blaine leaves the stage is everything to him. Kurt is in New York, working harder than ever after a promotion. Is his work becoming more important to him than Blaine is? Is there something else distraction him? Someone else?


**Notes:  
** jennywren (Jenn1042) asked at the end of _Beautiful Mess_ : What will happen when Blaine goes back on tour, how will they deal with it?

It planted a seed in my head that later grew into this. _Starlight_ takes place about six months after the end of _Beautiful Mess_. It mostly takes place in Chicago for one reason - two days after I posted the last chapter of _Beautiful Mess_ , I went on vacation to Chicago and fell in love with the city. This one-shot is not betaed so you will probably encounter some grammatical errors here and there. Hopefully not too many and hopefully they're not too distracting :)

* * *

 **Blaine, Thursday June 28** **th** **2018, 11.14 pm**

I stand center stage and look out at the sea of people in front of me, their arms in the air, clapping, cheering, chanting my name. They're all here for me, to hear me sing and to see me perform. I can't quite grasp it. It's too big to really comprehend, jet it happens every night. I should be used to it by now but I don't think I ever will be. I close my eyes and lift my face towards the ceiling with my arms stretched out and let it all wash over me as the final notes of the last song fades away. Adrenaline rushes through my body, my heart starts pumping faster, as I stand there and listen to the never ending applauds. For a few seconds I let myself feel it. Their love and support flows into my bloodstream, and for those seconds before I take my bow and leave the stage, I am theirs. I am whatever they need me to be. Their star, their idol, their hero… But as soon as I walk off the stage, I'm someone else's, only hoping I can still be the man he needs me to be.

I gratefully accept the towel and water bottle handed to me as I leave to go backstage. Sweat trickles down my face and neck. Sweat from giving it all, like every night – it's what they deserve – but also from the relentless heat that no air conditioner can shut out in a room filled with thousands and thousands of people. These last days have been unbearable that way, the heatwave keeping every city we've visited in a tight grip. I love a warm summer day. There's nothing better than feeling soft rays of sun tickle your skin early in the morning and spending the day lazing about feeling like you're wrapped up in a cozy blanket, but temperatures above 90 for days is starting to wear me out.

I swipe my face with the towel, hang it over my shoulder, and uncap the bottle while I follow the guy with quick strides to my dressing room. The water cools me for a few seconds but it's not enough to keep the sweat from reappearing on my face. I walk past cables, extension cords, ropes and ladders, down a stair, through a culvert, up a stair, down a corridor until I reach my room. Exhaustion burns in my bones, but I keep walking. The reward I'll receive when I get there feeds me with the energy I need. Nobody stops me. They know I won't talk to them now. They know to leave me alone for 30 minutes before knocking on my door. This is our time. This is what gets me through the weeks, days, hours, without him.

I pull out my phone the second I close the door behind me and lie down on the black leather sofa placed in one corner of the room. It's like one of those therapy couches you see in movies, a chaise longue with a low back along half of its length, where the star lies down and bares his soul. In real life I've never encountered a therapist with a couch like this, it's always armchairs or a normal couch, but this still feels a bit therapeutic. I press FaceTime and wait for him to answer.

My eyes land on the framed pictures of artist that have performed here before me hanging on the wall across from me, and I wonder if the picture they took of me earlier today will end up there as well. Four years into this and I still sometimes feel like a lost boy who by coincidence stumbled upon a record deal and that my picture doesn't belong up there with the stars I've admired for years.

"Hi, baby." Kurt's voiced is rushed, and I find myself looking at, not his face as I had expected, but his arm maybe? An arm that is now moving away so that all I see is our kitchen cabinets.

"What are you doing, Kurt?" I ask, scrunching my forehead, trying to make sense of his unusual way of answering.

Our calls are the highlight of my day, they're what's keeping me together and making me endure these weeks of separation. The calls are always late, it's the only time we have where we're both available. Kurt goes to work long before I wake up and by the time he gets home, I'm busy with sound checks or fan meetings or promotion work. The only time we're both free is after my shows. It's hard but it's what we have so we make it work.

It's right before Kurt goes to sleep. This is another reason I'm looking forward to them - Kurt in bed, sleepy-smiling back at me through the phone. Which is why I'm confused to be greeted by an arm and our kitchen tonight. Although it is better than yesterday when he was walking alone through the streets of New York City at midnight. He said I was cute to worry, but he had lived in New York for six years and he knew how to take care of himself. Still I stayed on the phone with him until I knew he was safely back at our apartment. It wasn't the bedtime conversation I was looking forward to, but it was still better than this.

"Working," Kurt's voice states from somewhere behind the phone, as if it should be obvious to me.

"Why?" I ask. "It's almost midnight on a Thursday. And could you please turn the phone so that I can see you."

"Sorry," Kurt says and the image on my screen shifts. For a few seconds I see the ceiling before the phone is leaned against something so that it's now angled towards Kurt. "You know I have a deadline, I told you, right?"

"I thought that was on Monday. You still have several days to get it ready, you don't have to wear yourself out every night. You need to take care of yourself."

"This is my first own collection, it's a little more work than working together with Cassandra." He's fiddling with some fabric and a needle, not really paying attention to me.

I understand that it's a big deal to him, and I am very proud of him for getting the promotion he dreamed of and worked hard to achieve, but I still can't help but feel a bit disappointed that his focus isn't on me. I've been looking forward to this all day and now he's barely looking at me. But I don't want to come across as whiny or unsupportive. It's just for another few days and then things will be back to normal. Whatever normal is when I'm on tour.

"How's it going?" I ask mustering up my brightest smile.

"Quite good actually. I think we have everything under control."

 _We?_ I think at the same time that I see the torso of someone very not-female walk by behind Kurt. It's not Ali, Santana or Rachel keeping him company.

"Who's that?" I ask.

"Oh, it's only Elliot," Kurt answers.

"Hi, Blaine." Elliot's smiling face pops into the screen, but all I see is his hand resting on Kurt's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Hi…," I say, but he's already gone again. "Why is Elliot there?"

"You know he's my assistant, Blaine."

This I know. When Kurt was promoted to senior designer, he picked Elliot to be his assistant. I've met him a couple of times, he's an alright guy, but he's never before followed Kurt home to work. At least I don't think he has…

"Yeah…" Even I can hear the hesitancy in my voice despite trying my best to stay positive.

"We decided to come here and continue instead of at the office. I know you don't like me walking home alone late at night, so today we left early and took the office with us," Kurt says as if that should please me. It doesn't. "And we felt we deserved some wine after working hard this week," Kurt continues, "so we uncorked a bottle and now we're really getting some good last minute ideas. Aren't we, Elliot?"

"We sure are!" Elliot shouts merrily from some other part of the room. "Your boyfriend should do all of his designs while slightly tipsy," he adds to me. "He's brilliant!"

 _Fiancé. My fiancé,_ I want to correct him, but Kurt speaks before I can.

"Oh, shush Elliot," Kurt giggles, taking a sip from his glass of red wine, all while keeping his eyes on Elliot and not me. "Flattery won't give you a raise either."

"Damn, I for sure thought that was it," Elliot giggles in return, clearly not completely sober either.

"Keep trying, young apprentice." Kurt shoots Elliot a bright smile.

"Ha! I'm older than you and you know it!"

This is supposed to be mine and Kurt's time and now I feel like an outsider taking part of someone else's inside joke. I don't like the way it makes me feel. Kurt is _my_ fiancé, he and I should be the ones making private jokes that makes Elliot feel left out, not the other way around.

"Kurt, could you maybe go into the living room, so that we could talk in private?" I ask trying to keep my voice calm because I don't want to start an argument over the phone.

Having Elliot there makes me uneasy. They're drinking wine and obviously having a lot of fun and… I don't know… I just want Kurt to focus on me and not on Elliot these sparse minutes that we have together.

Kurt's smile falters, but he picks up his phone and moves away from the kitchen. He sits down on the couch, his attention finally fully on me.

"Is everything alright?" There's an underlying tone of worry in his voice.

"I just miss you, Kurt, a lot… And I can't talk to you with Elliot there."

"I miss you too, baby," Kurt says softly. "You know I do. I just needed to get away from the office and you know I can't do this without Elliot."

 _No, I don't know!_ Kurt's been helping Cassandra with deadlines before, he should know all there is to know about the work needed. Besides it's midnight and there really should be some regulations as to how late it's allowed to work. But I don't want to waste time talking about Elliot, he's taking up enough of our alone time already.

"I don't know how much longer I can go without seeing you," I admit.

"I know. It's hard for me too, Blaine…"

"I miss you like crazy, Kurt. I miss hugging you, touching you, messing around with you…" I chose my words carefully, not sure how much Elliot can hear from our conversation. "Can't you come to Chicago this weekend?" I ask, knowing what his answer will be.

"I miss all of that too," Kurt says, his face turning sad for a second. "But I'll see you in two weeks when your tour comes to New York," he adds cheerfully.

"But what am I supposed to do until then? Just hold my breath? I need you now, and-"

A loud cry from the kitchen cuts into our conversation. Kurt quickly turns around to see what's happening.

 _And you don't have any time for me…_

"Ah, fuck," Kurt curses under his breath. "Elliot just cut himself. I'm sorry Blaine, I have to go and help him before he bleeds down all of my designs. I'll call you or text you later, okay?"

"Okay… I love you," I say but Kurt has already hung up.

I throw my phone across the room, listening with closed eyes as it smashes against a wall and falls to the floor.

I am not okay.

 _Fuck!_ I hide my face in my hands and try to ignore the queasy feeling forming in the pit of my stomach. But I can't ignore the voices in my head. _Is this the start of us falling apart? Is my biggest fear becoming a reality?_ It's not only tonight, there has been a gradual shift over the week where it's becoming more and more apparent that he doesn't have the time or energy for our late night calls. He fell asleep while we were talking one day and another time he cut our call short because he needed to call Elliot about an idea he got on how to rework one of his designs to make it perfect.

I know that Kurt and Elliot have been spending a lot of time together lately. They work together and with this deadline and with me gone, they spend even more time in each other's company. Elliot can give Kurt things I never could. He's always there, he won't leave Kurt for months because his jobs demands him to. His job is to be around Kurt, help him in whichever way he can. _Does Kurt want help with things that aren't work related?_

They were sharing a bottle of wine. That is something Kurt and I can never do, but maybe that is something that Kurt misses. Surely that was something he and Rafi did. Late night confessions, snuggled up on the couch with wine-relaxed bodies…

They were laughing and having fun. When was the last time Kurt and I did that? Lately our phone calls have become so serious and there's all this longing and built up frustration in all of our conversations. It's keeping us, or at least me, from being happy. Kurt doesn't seem to have the same problem…

Kurt has told me time and time again, that he's over the whole long-distance-not-working-for-him thing that kept us apart for years, but what if he really isn't? What if the distance is an issue? What if I'm pulling us apart again?

It's obvious I miss him more than he misses me. _I'll see you in two weeks…_ How is that enough for him when I can barely breathe without him? When all I do reminds me of him? Every song I sing is still about him, so many of them reminding me of our time apart, of what I let go and how miserable I was then. Talking to him after the shows normally takes the edge of my feelings, it soothes me and grounds me. Talking to him helps to keep me sane in this insane tour world I'm currently living in. They reassure me that we are still okay, that we can do this. That our time apart is only temporary, our love for each other is not. But not tonight. Tonight Kurt was drinking, getting tipsy and having fun with Elliot. And he was so quick to hang up on me when Elliot needed him.

Tonight there's nothing to take the edge of my feelings, they're left raw and open. And for the first time in a very long time I feel like drinking. I need something to numb my feelings or I _will_ go insane. I'll spend the rest of the night thinking about Kurt and Elliot, wondering what they're doing. Wondering if his job description has expanded to include more services Kurt might need… I can't do that. Alcohol makes me forget.

A knock on the door and Jeff calling out my name, snaps me out of my thoughts. My eyes sting with unshed tears, my heart aches with doubt and unanswered questions. I don't want to talk to anyone. Only Kurt, but he's not here…

"Blaine?"

I don't answer. I want him and everyone else to disappear while I figure out how to get hold of something to drink.

"Blaine?" This time there is no knock, instead I hear the door open, followed by a worried, "What's wrong?" a few seconds later.

Jeff knows me too well. He's seen my ups and downs, and the sight of my slumped body, my hands covering my face and my phone thrown on the floor, gives him every indication he needs to know that things are not right with me.

"Go away," I say.

"I can't do that." Jeff closes the door behind him and walks over to the chaise longue.

"I want to be alone, Jeff. Please," I demand.

Jeff shoves my feet to the side and sits down, ignoring my words. "What happened? Didn't you just talk to Kurt? Is everything okay with him?"

It annoys me, that he won't leave me alone and that he knows so well that he can tell immediately what's making me lie here like this.

"Oh, I'm sure he's dandy," I say as I feel my worry and anxiousness turn into anger. I get up and walk over to sit down by the make-up table. It's one of those with three vanity mirrors with round light-bulbs framing their sides. I want to throw something hard into the wall, something fragile that will shatter and break into pieces just like my heart. He didn't even stay on the phone long enough to tell me he loves me. We always do that.

The only thing on the table is a fashion magazine. I shove it to the floor with force. Just because. I hate feeling this way. I don't want to lose him. I can't. I can't be without him. I lean my elbows against the hard surface and rest my head in my hands, the sudden burst of anger fading away.

I feel a gentle squeeze on my shoulder and then Jeff is crouching by my side. "Talk to me, Blaine. Tell me what happened."

"I don't know if we can do this. I don't think we'll survive being apart."

"What makes you say that? You and Kurt are made for each other."

"I'm not sure Kurt feels that way anymore. He spends all of his time with Elliot and tonight they were drinking wine and making jokes I didn't understand and… I'm losing him, Jeff."

"You're not losing Kurt, he loves you."

"I don't know… He's been so distant all week and tonight he just cut our conversation short because Elliot needed him. But I need him too… And I… I feel like drinking, Jeff. I can't do this, I have to go home. I can't wait two weeks until I meet him again. I can't give Elliot two more weeks to make his way into Kurt's heart."

I shrug off Jeff's hand and stand up again. I don't care about this tour, I have to see him. I have to talk to him face to face. Nothing is worth anything if it means I'm losing Kurt. I pick up my phone from the floor, notice the big crack on the screen from the impact with the wall, and shove into my back pocket.

"What you need to do is get on the bus and go to Chicago," Jeff says calmly, standing up and leaning against the make-up table. "I don't know what happened tonight, but there's nothing I'm more certain of than that Kurt loves you. I understand that you're upset, but don't make a rash decision that you'll regret."

"This is my life, Jeff." I start pacing the room, too restless to stand still.

"I know, but you can't just take off. You have obligations and there will be consequences if you deviate from the tour."

I hate that he's right. I hate being tied to contracts and commitments. I don't know what the consequences are, but I feel my determination falter. My heart is telling me to go, but my head says I can't. I think about Kurt and I think of the thousands of fans who have spent their hard earned money on tickets to see me perform. It's such an unfair comparison to make and it's tearing at me. Kurt is my number one priority but I have other priorities too and I can't ignore them. The headache I'm starting to feel is inevitable.

"Take some hours to think this through, there's nothing you can do about it tonight," Jeff says. "Talk to Kurt tomorrow and if you still feel the same way after you talk, then we can discuss this again and see what we can do. Okay?"

It sounds reasonable. He's right I can't do anything tonight and if I'm in Chicago it's probably easier to get a flight to New York than it is from Kansas City. I look at Jeff and nod. I see his body relax in relief.

"Come on, let's get you into a shower and then on the bus."

"Okay," I say meekly.

Jeff moves to open the door, but right before he's about to turn the handle he turns around and looks at me. "Were you serious? Do you really feel like drinking? Because, Blaine…"

There is so much worry and concern in his eyes and voice, it's making my chest feel tight as it hits me. If there had been a bottle with anything alcohol containing in it, I would have drunk it. And I wouldn't just have tasted a sip or two, I would have opened it and emptied its content. It scares me how quickly that craving returned, how my instinct was to drink to dull the pain. I know it's not the solution, it never has been, yet that's where my thoughts went. I thought I was healed, but it's clear I'm not anywhere near free from this.

I shake my head. "No," I say even if it's not the whole truth. "I don't feel like drinking." _Not anymore_.

* * *

 **Blaine,** **23 hours later**

There's a nervous restlessness in my steps as I walk off stage and make my way to my dressing room. My mind is on Kurt, as it has been since yesterday. As it always is.

I couldn't fall asleep last night, my mind kept going back to my call with Kurt - all of our calls this week, but the last one in particular – and how happy he looked when he talked to Elliot and how sad he looked when he talked to me. I used to be the one making him smile like that, but now… now I don't know how I make him feel. It was this new uncertainty, combined with the image of the gentle squeeze of Elliot's hand on Kurt's shoulder, like a reassuring reminder that he was there even if Kurt was on the phone with me, and the easygoing mood between them, that kept me awake.

I started to search for flights from Chicago to New York, outbound on Saturday morning with a return in the afternoon. If I could just see him and talk to him, kiss him and hold him, maybe I could save us. I've promised myself to never give up on me and Kurt without a fight if it ever came to that again, and it felt as though it had. Jeff's words kept ringing in my ears though, and there was no way of knowing for sure until I had talked to Kurt again, and so the tickets remained unreserved. At least I knew I had several options for a last minute flight should I need one.

Kurt promised to get back to me, but he never did, and at 2 am I gave up any hope of sleep and joined the only other person awake on the bus. I didn't know what to make of Kurt not at least texting me good night, and alone in the quiet and dark bus, my mind kept going to places I didn't want it to. Every time I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep, images of the two of them together kept floating up behind my eyelids. Falling asleep was an impossible task.

He was a quite funny, the bus driver, and his stories about his teenage daughter and her friends had me laughing. Talking to him made me, not forget perhaps, but to some degree it distracted me, at least enough to relax a little bit.

I think I must have dozed off somewhere along I-55, because when I woke up, the sun was up and we had reached the outskirts of Chicago. My back and neck was sore from sleeping in a sitting position, so I went to my bed and fell back asleep.

Jeff woke me up when we reached our hotel. A new city, a new tour stop, always meant lots of things to do, of people to meet, and I knew I'd be kept busy until the show was over tonight, which was a blessing of sorts.

I looked at my phone to check the time, and saw that I'd received a text from Kurt. He has a habit of texting me every morning before he goes to work and this morning was no exception. I don't know what I expected the text to say, but I didn't expect it to be so… normal.

 **Kurt  
 **Good morning baby! I hoped you slept well on the bus, I know how you hate the nights you have to spend on the bus instead of at a hotel, but on the bright side now you have two nights in Chicago and the day off on Sunday so no travelling for a little while. Kick ass tonight (you always do)! Love you and see you soon.****

The normalness of the message made me question if I had imagined it all. If me being away and missing him made me read too much into it. But I knew I what I saw and then I just got mad. Was he just going to pretend everything was normal until I was back in New York? Was he going to keep going behind my back for another two weeks? How long had he already been doing it?

I tried calling him because I just couldn't take it anymore. I'd rather he'd be honest with me than keep on faking it. There were no answers to any of my calls, and my texts asking him to call me went unanswered too. I didn't expect him to answer my calls, Kurt doesn't have the habit of answering private calls at work, but we normally share a few texts every day. But nothing's normal anymore and the lack of contact did nothing to soothe my already spiraling thoughts. Maybe he was trying to figure out how to leave me. Maybe that's why he didn't answer...

Somehow I got through the interviews, the meet & greets, and the sound check without coming across as distracted or distressed (several years of doing this is paying off I guess), but if anyone were to ask me what I said during those meetings I wouldn't be able to recall a single word.

Performing on stage felt like nightmare, all I wanted was for it to be over so that I could call Kurt and get him to tell me what's happening with us. That did not mean I didn't give my all on stage again. I'm professional enough to give a concert without letting it show. After all, it's what I've been doing all these years - putting on great shows and acting as if I'm not a complete mess.

Now is my time to call him, this is our time and even if he hasn't had time before, I know he'll be waiting for my call. That doesn't make me any less nervous about the conversation I'm about to have with him. I try not to think about all the ifs and buts and maybes as the call connects, and just focus on what I want to say to him.

There's no answer to my call. I slump down on the armchair closest to the door and pull my knees close to my body. Hugging my legs, I lean my head against my knees and try to suppress the panic and the tears I feel building inside me. Never in my seven weeks on tour has one single call after one of my concerts gone unanswered. I focus on controlling my breathing, to not let those thoughts take over, because if Kurt is not answering my call, there's only one thing he could be doing…

The uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach that I've been having since yesterday returns in full force. But I don't want to believe it. I can't believe it until he tells me it is so, it's a too scary thought. Yet the more I try not to think about it, the more the thoughts are there, in the center of my brain, poking for attention.

It's a different dressing room from last night, a different wall, but the sound my phone makes when it hits it is the same. I'm sure there's a second crack, if not several, but I can't find the energy to care about that when my life is falling apart. I'm mad and sad at the same time. Before going on tour I knew this was a risk. I knew something like this could happen. Kurt had assured me that he loved me and me spending three years on Antarctica wouldn't change that, let alone a three month tour. But still, here I am…

There's no air left in the room for me to breathe. How can I breathe when I'm losing Kurt? Everything feels as bad as it did six years ago when he broke up with me the first time. Every feeling I've ever felt writing the songs I performed tonight comes back, and they come back all at once and hit me hard. Tears trickle down my cheeks, there's no way of stopping them.

My hand finds it way under my tank top, fingers gripping around the key that I always carry around my neck. _Wherever I live, it's your home, too._ Holding the key usually reassures me of what we have, but now I can't help but wonder _but for how long?_ For how long will we share a home if he's found interest in another?

I take a deep breath before walking across the room to where the phone landed on the floor. I pick it up and see that the screen does have several cracks along the glass. Ignoring the fact that I need to buy a new phone, I dial his number again. I need to talk to him. I need him to tell me what's going on. I won't let him ignore me.

For the second time it goes unanswered. Anger mixes with anxiety, as the reality of the situation becomes clearer to me. _Fuck!_ He could at least be man enough to tell me if he can't do this anymore. Give me a chance to fix whatever I've broken by being away before shutting me out.

The firm knock on my door startles me. _Has it already been 30 minutes?_ I look at my phone again, but I don't know what time I got here so the screen telling me it's 11.17 pm doesn't help.

"Not now, Jeff," I call out to him. I need to talk to Kurt. I need to figure out what's going on, and if he still doesn't answer I need to reserve a flight ticket before Jeff can talk me out of it.

I hear him trying to open the door, but I locked it when I entered the dressing room - lessoned learned from last night.

"Come on, Blaine, open the door," Jeff says. "I need to talk to you about something." He sounds so happy and if feels so unfair that he gets to be happy when I'm this miserable.

"It will have to wait," I say as I dry my tears and call Kurt again. When there's still no answer I start to search for plane tickets from Chicago to New York.

"This actually can't wait. It's important, so can you please open the door." It's not a question, that much is clear to me.

"What is it?" I ask tapping my fingers repeatedly against the phone as the search engine works through multiple of databases.

"It's not something I feel comfortable discussing with you in a hallway, through a closed door," Jeff says back. "Come on, Blaine. I have some good news."

 _Good news?_ There is no such thing as good news when Kurt is leaving me. I don't want to hear what he has to say and I'm about to tell him that when suddenly I'm frozen to the spot because of what I hear next.

"Blaine," a second voice say softly. It's a voice I'd recognize anywhere.

* * *

 **Kurt, a few hours earlier**

I enter the arrivals area at Chicago's O'Hare airport, searching for the driver Jeff insisted to send to pick me up. I told him I could get a cab, but he said Blaine would be very upset with him when he found out Jeff had allowed that. Knowing Blaine and how protective he still is of me, I dropped the argument without any further interjections. I spot him quite soon, the driver, he's hard to miss holding a sign stating Mr. Hummel. He grabs my bag and soon we're out the automated glass doors, leaving the airport behind us.

I have a missed call from Jeff from when I was on the plane so I call him back in the car, worried that our plans might have changed. There's no answer though, and I decide that since the car showed up and since he didn't leave a voicemail, everything is as it should be.

I'm dropped off somewhere outside of Soldier Field where Blaine's _Starlight_ -tour is taking him tonight and tomorrow. Jeff has assured me that the driver will deliver my suitcase to Blaine's hotel room, so I leave it in the car while another man meets up with me and guides me to a room where I can hide until the concert starts. I want my visit to be a surprise and I can't wait to see the look on his face when he sees me after the show.

I've missed him like crazy while he's been away. Every day without him gets harder and harder, and though I do my best to keep myself busy, something is always missing. There's only so much love you can give and receive through FaceTime, and it's not nearly enough for me. Last weekend I couldn't take it anymore, I needed to see him and hold him and just be with him. So I called Jeff to see if it was doable.

It's been a struggle keeping this from Blaine. Every conversation we've had this week I've been afraid I would slip and mention something that would spoil the surprise. I've been trying to act normal, but I don't think I've been doing a very good job at it. I suspect he's seen right through me and has figured out I'm coming here tonight.

When he told me he missed messing around with me and asked me if I could come to Chicago this weekend, I was sure he knew and it took everything that I had not to tell him.

 _God, I miss messing around with him too…_ I miss the physical contact and the intimacy. As fun as our weekend phone sex sessions are, it's not enough and it completely lacks all the post sex cuddles that I've grown addicted to. But I'm here now and soon we'll have time to ourselves.

Soldier Field is an impressive stadium. Even if I'm only whisked through the backstage area to get to my secret room as quickly as possible so that no one notices me and can whisper to Blaine about spotting me here, it's still obvious how big this place is. Sometimes it's hard for me to fathom that Blaine, _my_ _Blaine_ , the boy I've known since I was ten and whom still thinks that 'snuggy' is the cutest nickname ever, can fill stadiums like this one with capacities of over 50000 people. And do it two nights in a row.

I mean, of course he can, he's a brilliant songwriter and a brilliant performer, and of course someone like him gets noticed and appreciated. But he's still my baby who, despite all of his fame and success, gets insecure about his talent and doubts people will want to listen to his music, who'd rather spend the evening next to me on our couch 'watching' a movie than attending any event he's invited to.

A girl named Stella drops by to make sure I'm okay. I have no idea who she is, this part of my visit Jeff and I didn't discuss in detail, but she's very nice and friendly and I feel very well taken care of. She tells me she'll guide me to my seat before the concert starts and afterwards she'll take me back to this room where Jeff will meet me and take me to Blaine. I'm excited about seeing him perform live, I haven't been to any of his concerts before - if you don't count the Friday nights he performed at that club in Columbus all those years ago.

Most of all though, I'm just excited to see him and talk to him for more than half an hour at the time. Or just be silent together with him. Sleep with my arms around him, be in the same room as him… all these things you don't take time to appreciate when you have it every day.

My phone buzzes with an incoming call. It's Blaine. As hard as it is to not answer, I don't. If I would answer his FaceTime call, he would immediately see that I'm not at home or at the office, which is why I've been ignoring his calls all day. I'm dying to talk to him, but I've really made an effort to keep it a secret the whole week and with only a few hours left until I'm finally face to face with him, I don't want to give it away in the last minute.

Right on time Stella knocks on my door, this time wearing a headset and carrying a black clipboard in her hand, and takes me to my designated seat. It's on the lower level and gives me an excellent view of the stage. I think Jeff might have arranged for me to have one of the best seats in the stadium. From this place it's obvious how big Soldier Field really is. The place buzzes with excitement and despite the excruciating heat, everyone seems to be having a good time waiting for the main attraction.

I enjoy the opening act together with the nice people around me, who recognizes me as Blaine's fiancé and are being extremely kind to me. I humor them with photos and autographs (no matter how weird that feels). But when Blaine enters the stage, nothing exist but him.

He completely takes my breath away with his performance. I've seen him on TV, but this is something different entirely. He's in his element and everything he does, every note he sings, every move he makes, is magnificent. I can't take my eyes away from him and I clap and cheer just as enthusiastically as the people around me.

I've never seen him this soulful. Maybe it's because I've never seen him perform live before, but with every song it's like I can feel his pain, or with his newer songs, his love. He gives his all in each and every one of them and even though most of them are a painful reminder of our past, I'm completely mesmerized by his performance.

It's not only his performance that takes my breath away though, his whole appearance is like a dream. With ripped jeans and a tight fitted red tank top, and with his hair curlier and more unruly than normal, he's fulfilling every fantasy I've ever had about him. I haven't seen him in the flesh for seven weeks and I want nothing more than to run upon that stage, feel his light scruff under my fingers as I pull him into a kiss.

When the show is over, I'm sad to see it end. I want more of him, more of the words I can feel deep in my heart. But, our nightly phone calls are about to be exchanged for face to face conversations - or more likely conversations with his face buried in my neck because that's how we always end up sooner or later. And when I think about that, I don't mind the show coming to an end.

Stella, still with her headset and clipboard, comes to guide me back to my room. Once I'm there, I only have to wait ten minutes before Jeff shows up. I think it might be the longest ten minutes of my life.

Together we walk through endless of corridors to what I'm sure is the other end of the stadium, until we're standing outside a door with a sign stating Blaine's name. My phone is muted but I can feel it vibrate in my pocket. I know it's Blaine, calling me like he always does, and as much as my fingers itch to fish the phone out of my pocket and accept the call, I resist. _Soon_ , I think as if Blaine can hear my thoughts through the door. S _oon, baby._

"Is he always this grumpy?" I whisper to Jeff, standing beside him listening to him trying to persuade Blaine to open the door.

"He's been a little off since last night," Jeff whispers back. "I tried to call you earlier to explain. Now I think he's worried because you aren't answering your phone."

"Explain what?" I whisper confused.

But Jeff continues in a normal speaking voice. "Come on, Blaine. I have some good news."

When the door still doesn't open, I can't hold back anymore. The thought of him worrying about me not answering makes me regret keeping this a secret from him and not answering any of his calls or texts today.

"Blaine," I say softly.

It takes a few seconds, then the door slowly opens and there he is, with a towel hanging around his neck, sweaty from his performance, but as beautiful as ever. I throw myself in his arms, not caring about getting sweat marks all over my clothes and skin because I'm finally in his arms again. I whisper an _I love you_ into his neck and hold him tight.

The thing is though, sure he hugs me back, but it's not at all with the enthusiasm or in the _oh my god I'm so excited to see you!_ kind of way I was expecting.

I let go of him, take a step back and let my eyes land on his face. I see now what I completely missed in my excitement to be with him again. His face show signs of distress and worry, and being this close to him I can see that his eyes are red and puffy with dark circles underneath, like he hasn't slept all that well lately. But I'm here now and everything is right again, yet he looks at me as if I'm a stranger to him. _Maybe this is what shock looks like?_

I take a step closer again, finding his hand with mine, connecting us, reassuring him that I am here, that this is not a dream. But now he takes a step back, his hand going limp and cold in mine.

"What's wrong, Blaine?" I ask, getting an uneasy feeling about the situation. _Why is he not happy to see me?_

"Why did you come?" Blaine asks.

"What do you mean?" _I came for you, because I love you and I can't be without you._ The words are stuck in my throat because everything about this situation is sending me red warning flags.

"Don't play with me. If you came to break up with me, just say it."

 _Break up with him?_ Is he high? In what universe would I break up with him? That second thought though sends quivers down my spine. What if he's crossed that line? Are his red eyes and dark circles a sign of drug use rather than tears and lack of sleep? But he wouldn't, not my Blaine. It's a ridiculous thought, but so are his words.

"What on earth are you talking about?" I ask.

"Elliot."

"What about him?" Confusion doesn't even begin to describe what's going on inside of me. _What does Elliot have to do with anything?_

"You like him, I know you do, so you might as well be honest about it. If you'd rather be with him you should tell me."

I don't know what to say to that. His words are like a bad joke. If it wasn't for the fact that his statement offends me, I would reassure him of my love for him, but I _am_ offended. And, quite frankly, upset that he has so little faith in me. In us.

"What has given you the impression that I like him?"

"You spend all your time with him. You laugh and make jokes and drink wine… All I've heard this week is Elliot this and Elliot that, and… and you hang up on me without saying _I love you_ …"

I take a deep breath. All of what he is saying is true, but he's reading it all wrong. _How can he think I like Elliot? Doesn't he know how much I love him?_ Thinking about it makes me even more upset and even if I try to keep my voice calm, the words come out bitter.

"It's true I've been spending a lot of time with him this week and the previous. But it's not what you think."

"No?! What is it then?" Blaine's snapping voice cuts me off before I get a chance to finish.

"We've been working our asses off to finish my designs by today instead of on my deadline on Monday, so that I could come here and spend the weekend with you. I talked about Elliot because if I started to talk about how much I miss you I wouldn't be able to stop myself from telling you that I was flying out here to see you and I wanted it to be a surprise." The more I speak the more the bitterness fades away and the final words are spoken as a soft reassurance. "I've missed you like crazy you know…"

Blaine is silent but I can see the wheels turning in his head.

This is not how I imagined the start of our weekend, I had something else entirely envisioned for our reunion. Now I don't know what's going to happen.

"The car is waiting for you outside." Jeff's voice cuts into the silence. "If you want to leave before things get too crazy out there, I suggest you do it now."

I had completely forgotten he was standing there beside us, witnessing our fight. I feel uncomfortable knowing anyone has seen this private moment between us. Jeff looks like he'd rather be anywhere but here.

A gentle squeeze to my hand pulls my attention back to Blaine.

"Do you want to come with me?" He asks, uncertainty reflecting in his eyes.

* * *

 **Blaine**

The car is filled with a heavy silence. Kurt is quiet and I'm wondering what he's thinking. He's looking out the tinted window as we drive by Millennium Park, watching the myriad of people escaping the heat by cooling themselves off in the Crown Fountain.

The car smells of new leather with a faint hint of pine tree coming from the green wunderbaum hanging from the rearview mirror. The tree dances back and forth as the cars stops and accelerates at every red light we pass on our way.

I hate the silence and the distance between us. It's all my fault. How could I question his feelings for me? I know he loves me. It's just... when I'm away from him things become a mess in my head, I'm not myself without him. I saw the signs I feared and I made them true.

"I'm sorry, Kurt." It's all I can think to say. It's not enough to save the situation, but I'm scared of what's happening between us. He's so cold and I can't read him.

"I'm just sad you think so little of me…" Kurt looks away from the window and gives me a look that makes my heart sink.

"I don't, Kurt. Never… It's just… I hate being away from you and not being able to be there for you. This tour life is so bizarre, you have no idea... I miss you all the time, and I'm so afraid of losing you…"

"You'll never lose me, Blaine. I love you too much to let you go."

There's a lump in my throat as his words stabs into my heart. I feel like the world's biggest fool for doubting him.

"I love you too, Kurt, so much. I've been so scared the distance I'm creating between us will be more than you can handle."

"And I've told you so many times that you don't have to worry about that, Blaine. People grow and learn. I let you go once, I'm not making the same mistake twice."

"I know…" I say feeling even more like a fool because Kurt really did go out of his way to reassure me before I left. But things can change and how was I to know for sure?

"Did you really think I was into Elliot?" He sounds hurt and the knot tightens in my stomach.

"I don't know… yes…" I say meekly. "You just looked like you were having so much fun with him yesterday, and he was right there and I'm here… not being what you need. I only make you sad because I'm not there for you, but he made you laugh…"

"We were exhausted from working late all nights this week, we had a little too much to drink, and it just made us silly and giggly."

"That's another thing," I say. "With Elliot you can share a bottle of wine, with me you can't…"

"Do you really think I care about that?" Kurt frowns.

I shrug because I don't know. It's not something we've talked about.

"I don't, Blaine. We felt like celebrating that we were going to manage to get the work done within our own deadline. But it was a stupid idea. I had to change back some of the changes we thought were brilliant when I looked at them this morning because with sober eyes they were quite horrible," Kurt says and smiles a small smile before returning to being serious. "I know you and I can't share some wine, but honestly, I haven't even thought about it as an issue. Being with you is what makes me happy, not what we can or cannot do."

"I'm sorry, Kurt," I say again. "I feel so stupid for doubting you. I love you, you're my everything, but I've been so scared of the distance creating a void between us and when I saw the signs I was fearing, I put one and one together…"

"And came up with three," Kurt states.

I nod, because I know now that's exactly what I did.

Kurt sighs, but it's not an upset sigh. "Come here."

He holds out his arms for me and I slide across the black leather seat, willingly diving right into them. "I should have told you Elliot is just my friend. Even if you already know that, I should have made it clear," Kurt says and wraps his arms around me. I bury my face in the crook of his neck and breathe in his familiar scent. He smells like home. He places a kiss on the top of my head before he continues.

"I should have realized how me spending so much time with Elliot would look in your eyes, but it honestly didn't cross my mind that you would read it all wrong and doubt my feelings. I'm sorry I made you doubt, baby."

Kurt calling me _baby_ relaxes me, I know he's not mad at me anymore. "You don't have to apologize, Kurt. I should have known."

The car crosses the river and turn left. Kurt is silent again, his hand stroking gently up and down my arm, the engagement ring lightly scratching against my skin like a gentle reminder of the promises we've made to each other. The silence isn't heavy like before, but it makes me realize that in everything that has happened, I have no idea what his plans for his stay are or if this has made him want to change them.

"Are we okay?" I ask, wanting to kiss him but not feeling confident enough in us yet to do so.

"Always, Blaine. I love you, you fool," Kurt says and nudges my arm.

I smile and feel all warm and fuzzy inside. 24 hours of worry is letting go of its tight grip on me and I feel light as a feather. "Where are you staying?"

"I was hoping in your hotel room," Kurt answers. His voice is warm and I think I can detect a smile in it.

"I was hoping that, too." I sit back a little, and yes, there is a smile on his face. A smile that shifts into gentle lip biting as Kurt takes his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes holds mine as he begins to lean in. I meet him halfway, and when my lips touch his, my whole body relaxes despite my heart beating fast. My lips part and Kurt's tongue slowly trace over mine. His warm breath goes deep into my lungs and I can finally breathe again. It's been so long since I last kissed him, and now… now I think I can survive the rest of the tour from this kiss alone. My hands go up to cup his cheeks as I push myself closer to him, almost straddling him, but we're not alone so I contain myself.

"I can't believe you're here," I say with a final peck, reluctantly letting go of his lips.

"I couldn't stay away. I was going insane in that big, empty apartment without you." Kurt holds me tighter, like he has no intention to let me go anytime soon. "I called Jeff last weekend to see if we could figure something out that would fit both your schedule and mine."

"Jeff's known for a week you were coming?" I ask, my eyebrows shooting up. "I can't believe he could keep quiet about it." Especially when I was going crazy with worry last night. "Or that you could," I add.

"I made Jeff promise not to tell you, although I'm sure he was dying to. I'm actually quite impressed he didn't, it must have killed him to keep quiet," Kurt laughs. "I just wanted to do something romantic for you for once. Ever since you took me to the Bahamas, I've been thinking of a way to treat you to an equally amazing surprise. But spring was so busy and before I knew it, it was May and you were leaving. I don't know why we didn't plan for me to come and visit you, because just because you can't come home doesn't mean I can't come to you."

I can't believe neither of us thought about it, can't believe it never crossed my mind that Kurt could come to me. I guess I maybe thought Jeff wouldn't allow it. My image have always been based upon me being single and available, but these days everyone knows I'm engaged to Kurt, everyone knows I'm not available anymore. Everything is different and of course Jeff wouldn't object.

"So when I figured out I could fly out this weekend, I really wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted to show up and see the surprised look on your face turn into a bright smile when you realized I came to you. I wanted to feel your arms around me as you lifted me off the floor and twirled me around. In hindsight, it would have been better to tell you my plans…"

"I'm sorry I ruined that moment for you, Kurt," I say and feel like an idiot all over again. "I would have loved for it to have happened that way. But can we maybe put it behind us, and focus on the time that we do have while you're here?"

"I would love nothing more," Kurt answers as the car pulls to a stop outside of my hotel.

"I can't wait to be alone with you," I whisper before I take his hand and we step out of the car. I can't wait to kiss him properly and let my lips re-acquaint themselves with every inch of his body. Now that I know we're good, that he's not giving up on us, my need and desire to really be with him after seven weeks apart is catching up with me and my body buzzes with excitement and anticipation.

Our private reunion will have to wait for a little while though as some of my fans have figured out where I'm staying and are waiting for me to show up outside of the hotel. They're almost as excited as I am to see that Kurt is with me, and even though Kurt tries to stay in the background to give them time with me, they want to talk to him too. My fans have really been great about my relationship with Kurt and whenever we show up together, which is not often because Kurt is still a private person, they always want to share a few words with him and take pictures of us together.

Kurt is getting more comfortable in situations like this, especially when there's not a lot of people and no press, and he casually talks and laughs with them. When they ask for pictures, Kurt puts his arms around my waist and pulls me in close. I glance at him to make sure he's okay with the situation, and he smiles softly in return, his eyes positively beaming. I feel in his hold how at ease he is with being here with me and my fans. It makes the last remains of my anxiousness wash away. We turn to look into their cameras, but I think we both know that the pictures inevitably ending up online will be those of us gazing into each other's eyes.

I hug them goodbye and thank them for coming out to see me before making our excuses. A uniformed doorman opens the door to the hotel for us and with check-in already taken care of, we walk hand in hand through the lobby. Once the elevator door shuts behind us, I can't wait to kiss him any longer. I press him up against the mirrored wall, hungrily pushing my tongue into his mouth, swirling it around his. Kurt kisses back with equal fire, his hands finding their way into my hair as a quiet moan escapes his throat. I thrust my hips against his, my already growing erection pressing into Kurt's. Moaning, Kurt's head falls back against the mirror with a low thud as I start trailing kisses up his neck and jawline, ending up nibbling at his earlobe – a trick I now know drives him crazy.

"I want you so bad, Kurt. I've missed you so much, you have no idea." I whisper close to his ear. "Can't wait to have you naked in my bed."

" _Oh God…"_ Kurt whimpers and thrusts back. "Why bed, why not here?"

"Do you want me to press the emergency stop button?" I tease, knowing Kurt doesn't mean what he's saying. He would never have sex in a hotel elevator.

"Just take me to your room," Kurt groans and then his tongue is in my mouth again.

Someone clears their throat close to us, and it's first then that I notice that the elevator has stopped and the doors are open. It's a member of my team, placed there to make sure none of my more persistent fans makes it any further than this. His knowing grin, tells me he's seen more than he paid for.

"Nice to see you here, Kurt," he says and a blushing Kurt smiles in return. "Have a _pleasant_ evening," he adds as we hurry down the corridor.

Once inside my room, we both burst out laughing. "We sure gave him a show," I say catching my breath.

The room is dark, but I can still make out the contours of a seating area in the corner and a king size bed in the center of the room. Through the big floor to ceiling windows that covers both sides of this corner suite, the nighttime Chicago skyline shines with a dull blue and yellow glow. The room smells of fresh linen with a faint hint of citrus from the detergent used.

Kurt's laughter turns into a groan. "Please don't tell me that will end up online too. I don't think I can handle the mocking dad will inevitably put me through if he finds out his son is making out in an elevator like a horny teenager."

"I loved you as a horny teenager," I tease. "I wouldn't mind reliving those days. But I think you're safe from Burt's scorning. I'm sure that guy has a contract that prevents him from revealing anything he sees or hears while working, and if he wants to keep his job he'll keep quiet."

"So, you loved me as a horny teenager?" Kurt says with a raised eyebrow and takes a step closer.

"Twenty-something you is not too shabby," I say, snake my arms around his waist and pull him nearer until he's flush against my chest, "but, yeah, teenage you did have some tricks up his sleeve."

" _Not too shabby,"_ Kurt imitates. "I think I might have learnt a few new ones since then," he smirks before leaning in and capturing my lips in a new kiss while squeezing my ass.

"I'm going to take a shower," I say as I reluctantly pull away. Dried sweat from the concert itches on my skin and I don't want to take things further before freshening up.

"Okay." Kurt takes my hand and tugs me towards the bathroom. I love how he so naturally decides to join me without asking.

He unbuttons his snug navy-blue shirt, keeping my gaze in a firm lock while doing it. My fingers itch to reach out and replace his, to expose his skin faster so that I can see and touch. Instead, I rid myself of my tank top in one swift move and get to work removing my jeans. When I'm standing naked before him wearing only my key necklace and engagement ring, he's still working on the final button of his shirt. Whether he's doing it to tease me or if his motives are something else, the pace is still all wrong.

I step into his space, dragging his shirt off his shoulders, letting it slide down to the floor, and start on his shorts. Pulling down his zipper, his hard cock presses against my hand. A small groan makes its way through my throat. It's been so long since we last were like this. I want to rush it and take forever with him at the same time.

"Are you really staying the entire weekend?" I ask, my hands still on his zipper, his cock still bulging under my hand. I need to know I have time to really be with him, that this won't be my only chance to show him just how much I've missed him.

"Actually I'm staying till Wednesday." Kurt's shaky breath falls on my lips as he thrusts against my hand.

My eyes pop open. _Wednesday!_ Wednesday means I'll get to spend… five days with him. Five days when I thought I'd have none.

"I was planning to stay for the weekend, but then Elliot pointed out that since I've already handed in my designs," Kurt says and thrusts again, "I don't really need to be there on Monday so why not take two extra days off and celebrate 4th of July with you before returning home. _Oh shit…,"_ Kurt moans when my hand strokes over his cock. "I talked to Cassandra and since I'm not taking any other vacation this summer it wasn't an issue. _Ahh..._ "

"God, I love Elliot," I mumble and press my lips hard against Kurt's. _Five days!_ Five days means I can take my sweet time with him later and that this moment can be as rushed as I suddenly need it to be.

"I didn't think he was your favorite person," Kurt growls against my lips.

"He isn't," I growl back and press my hand harder against his bulge. "I just like the way he thinks."

"I like the way you think," Kurt smirks, wraps one leg around mine and push his body against mine.

I press my lips against his again to get him to quit talking. There are too many words and not enough lips connected to my body. His tongue is in my mouth faster than I can register and he brings his hands up to my cheeks to pull me closer as he completely devours me in this kiss.

I hurry to remove his shorts and underwear, push him against the nearest wall and take his cock in my hand. Kurt hisses when his back meets the cold tiles, but he makes no motion to move or change position. Slowly at first, until there's enough pre-cum to make the glide smooth, I start stroking him. Kurt does the same, and his hand finally on me, stroking and twisting and pulling, has me moaning and breathing hard.

" _Fuck that's good, Kurt…_ " I let out before my kisses move up his jawline.

Kurt's free hand rakes through my hair, gripping and tugging when my lips reach his ear. When my thumb strokes over his slit, smearing more pre-cum across the head, Kurt's grip on my hair becomes firmer and I detach my lips from his skin, leaning my head back a bit so that I can look at the beautiful man in front of me. Kurt's eyes are closed, his lips slightly parted and his breath comes out in short, shallow exhales. It's clear how much he has missed this too.

Being here with Kurt - touching him, kissing him, being close to him, getting him off – is everything. I've missed him so much but knowing that I wouldn't get to see him for months, I pushed those feelings aside to survive without succumbing to the misery and ache I know I would feel if I'd let myself feel. Now, with one hand roaming over his cock and the other gripping his hip, I let myself feel. Weeks of suppressed longing and loneliness washes over me, and I'm so grateful that he is here. That I get to call him mine and touch him in this way.

I grip firmer around his cock, stroking him faster, harder. Kurt moans louder, thrusting into my hand again and again, while at the same time pumping my cock.

"Oh God, Blaine _… shit…_ you're incredible… _don't stop, baby. Fuck…"_ Kurt rambles _,_ lost in his own pleasure.

Heavy breathing and husky moans, mingles with the sound of hands moving fast over slicked cocks in the otherwise silent room. The sounds spur me on, drive me nearer the edge, make me want to get him there so much sooner because I refuses to come before him. He's always taken care of me, but lately my desire to be the one looking after him has grown more intense and I feel this deep satisfaction whenever I get to do something for him - sex-related or otherwise.

"I'm going to make you feel good so many times these days, Kurt. I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll feel me for days after you leave," I whisper into his ear.

 _Oh god… Blaine!"_ Kurt calls out as his orgasm washes over him and he spills his cum all over my hand and belly.

"Fuck, Blaine…" Kurt breathes out, his voice hoarse and soft as he shifts from ecstasy and begins to come down.

His grip on my cock momentarily loosens, but when I start thrusting into his hand, whimpering and desperate for friction, his fist tightens around me and his lips are on mine. He sucks my lip between his teeth, bite down once before shoving his tongue into my mouth and kissing me so fiercely it sucks the air out of my lungs.

I lose all words and the only sounds coming out of me are desperate whimpers as he strokes my cock with determination and the one and only goal of making me come. My grip on his hip hardens, my stomach clenches and I spill my cum between us as my orgasm rips through me. I lean my forehead against his shoulder to steady myself as he continues to stroke my still hard cock until every drop I have to give him has left me.

"Let's take that shower," Kurt murmurs close to me, letting go of my cock to bring his hand up to stroke my back instead.

I nod weakly against his shoulder, weak after weeks of longing and after coming harder than any sex calls have made me come in seven weeks.

Kurt turns on the big shower with plenty of room for two and leads me into it. I want to take care of him, to wash all that cum away from his body, but all those built up feelings finally catches up with me and I can barely stand up, my body faint and completely spent. Instead, Kurt takes care of me. Standing behind me holds me up and rubs body wash all over my limp body. He washes my hair and with gentle fingers massages my back.

"How are you feeling, baby?"

"Exhausted," I admit.

"Let's get you to bed," Kurt says with a voice so gentle and full of love it makes me want to cry with gratefulness. So much in my life wouldn't be nearly as worthful if I didn't have my amazing, caring and loving fiancé by my side.

"No," I object. "I won't go to sleep when you're here. I've missed you so much and I'm not going to sleep when I can spend time with you."

"We have days together, Blaine," Kurt says and places a kiss on my neck. "And sooner or later you'll have to give in to sleep. I won't be responsible for you passing out on stage because I've kept you up."

"I'll choose later then," I state. "If I just lie down I'll be fine."

Two strong arms wrap around me, one of his hands folding around the key on my chest. A soft, content hum is exhaled into my hair as Kurt just holds me tight. There's a delightful flitter in my belly and I lean my head back against him and squeeze his hands with mine.

"I've missed you too," he murmurs. "So much. I think we've managed quite good these weeks, but God, Blaine, it's so hard being away from you."

"I know…" Pleasant flutter is exchanged with a churning feeling as a pang of guilt hits me. "I'm sorry…" I close my eyes and try to feel comfort in him holding me close like this, but I can't help battling with the thought that if it wasn't for me we wouldn't have to be apart.

"No, please don't, baby. Being a performer is part of who you are, and I love who you are. This will always be a part of our lives, and I don't want to change it, not really. I would never want to change you. I just have to suck it up and know that what we have is unbreakable."

"You shouldn't have to feel that way…"

"There's also something beautiful in waiting and longing," Kurt purrs into my ear. "Because when we reunite we get to have moments like this."

I haven't thought of it like that. It's always been guilt and loneliness filling my head and heart with worry. But this moment with him have been so sweet, it has made up for every lonely night I've had on the road since I left Kurt in May. Maybe there is something beautiful in it all.

Knowing that Kurt sees it this way fills me with an inner peace. Sure, there are several weeks left of lonely nights and empty hotel rooms, but then, when I'm back in New York, back where I belong with Kurt, the reward will be all the sweeter.

I mumble agreeingly and turn my head to meet his lips in a kiss. "Are you really staying till Wednesday?" I can't quite believe it's true.

"Yes," Kurt smiles. "I really am."

"But I'll be in…" I start trying to remember where the tour is taking me next week.

"In San Diego," Kurt fills in, always knowing my tour schedule better than I do. "I know, and I will go with you to both Phoenix on Monday and then to San Diego, and then I'll take the red-eye back to New York on Wednesday. I've already cleared it with Jeff."

"God, I love you so much." I can never say it enough. There aren't enough words to tell him how happy he makes me. How I wouldn't be half the man I am today if it wasn't for him. How grateful I am to have him grace my life with his presence, not just tonight but all the days we've spent together since we were kids and all the days we will share in the future.

I don't only feel like crying now, tears are slowly trickling down my cheeks, mingling with the shower water on their way down. There are so many emotions in me, so many that have been bottled up for days and weeks, and now I let them all out, replacing them with happiness and gratefulness. And love. Kurt's hold on me tightens as if he can feel the sobs trembling through my body.

"I can't believe you will travel with me," I say when I've composed myself enough to speak in a steady, cheerful voice. This is a moment of joy, not a moment of sadness of things you have no control over. It's enough that I'm emotional, there don't have to be two grown men crying in the shower.

"I'm looking forward to it," Kurt says and he sounds excited when he does. "I can't wait to see what tour life is really like."

"Is that all you're looking forward to?"

"There's also this boy I like, and I'm kind of hoping he wants to hang out with me," Kurt teases. "I'm not sure he has the time though."

"Hmm," I pretend to ponder. "Maybe… Maybe he'll make time."

Kurt chuckles behind me and hugs me a little tighter. "Okay, let's get out of this shower and into bed before we turn into prunes."

* * *

 **Kurt**

"Look, Blaine, they have lemon and poppy seed pancakes!" I exclaim. "Let's order some."

I'm in one of the armchairs arranged around the small table by the large windows facing towards the river. The white terry robe I slipped into after the shower keeps me warm and cozy in the well air-conditioned room. I watch people stroll along the Chicago Riverwalk, enjoying the warm summer that is almost bearable after midnight. The faint sound of a car honking as it crosses one of the numerous bridges below me passes through the window.

The bathrobe is softer than any other hotel robe I've ever worn, which I ascribe to being one of the perks of staying in a suite at a five star hotel. A perk that I intend to take full advantage of these days I'm here with Blaine.

I'm scanning through the room service menu, hungry after arguments and sex. It's been hours since I last ate and even though it's long after midnight, I'm more starving than tired.

"You can have anything you want for breakfast, Kurt. Just come to over here."

My eyes leave the menu and glance over at Blaine. He's in bed, naked under the cover, smiling back at me.

"Let's order them now," I say, hoping he'll agree since they are his favorite. "Or do you want to sleep?"

"I told you I'll sleep later," Blaine answers. "I want to spend as much waken time with you as possible when you're here. Preferably in this bed."

"Come join me over here," I plead. There's something entrancing about sitting in a dark hotel room, high above the streets, gazing out at the city at night. The view from the 15th floor is spectacular, and as tempting as it is to crawl into bed next to Blaine, I want to sit here and just take in the sight for a little while longer.

Blaine shakes his head, but gets out of bed anyway. Taking the cover with him, he walks over to the desk and makes the call to order us pancakes with strawberry syrup, a diet coke for me and an orange juice for himself. He then strolls over to me and makes himself comfortable in my lap, draping the cover around the both of us.

I hold him tight, reveling in the feeling of having him in my arms again, happy that our stupid quarrel didn't cause any lasting damage between us. We're good, we got through it by talking and being sincere, the way we always do it. It's one of the things I love about us - our communication and our honesty with each other. It has gotten us through many situations where the outcome might have been very different if we hadn't talked about how we truly felt.

Now there's something else on my mind. Something that's been worrying me since long before he left for this tour.

"What's life on the road like?" I ask.

"What do you mean?" Blaine asks, busying himself with placing kisses on my temple. "I tell you every night how my day has been and what I've been doing. You know it's lonely even if the guys in the band take good care of me. Other than that it's mostly promotion and rehearsals."

It's not what I mean, but I don't know how to say what's truly on my mind without making it sound like I'm accusing him or not trusting him. _Honesty._ Honesty is always the way to go.

"What about temptations?" I ask.

"What about them?" Blaine wonders. "I hope you're not insinuating that I'm tempted to fuck someone else." He pulls away from me, gazing at me with narrowed eyes.

I'm not. Not really. I _know_ he would never touch other men, he probably never even glances at them. Being here with him makes it easy to know that, but when I'm at home, alone, my conviction isn't as strong. I know what he used to do on tours when he was lonely, and even if that was before we got back together and I know his reasons, it's still a habit I fear he'll fall back into. I can't quite let the thought go, no matter how unfounded I know it is.

This wasn't what I was thinking about though, not primarily, but the other thing can wait as this is something we should talk about too.

"Don't you trust me, Kurt?" Blaine continues when I don't answer right away. His body stiffens and his eyes turn darker. "You know you're it for me and if you think that I would risk what we have by fucking some random stranger, then-"

"No, I'm not insinuating that," I assure him and kiss him. "But it's hard for me when I'm alone in that big apartment to not let my thoughts wander… I know you would never, Blaine."

"Good," Blaine huffs and press his lips hard against mine, relaxing bit by bit when my hands stroke over his chest until my fingers connect with the key he always carries around his neck. "I'm going to marry you, Kurt, and this ring I'm wearing," he says and pulls out his hand from under the cover, holding it up for me to see it. "This means that I am yours. Always. I know we haven't exchanged our vows yet, but to me, this ring symbolizes that no matter what, no matter where we are – together or thousands of miles apart – I'm committed. When I put this ring on, I promised my heart to you. And I don't break promises."

" _Baby…_ " I say, at lost for words. My emotions from hearing him say those words so firmly without any hesitation make tears well in my eyes, blurring my vision slightly. I play with the key between my fingers, loving that he carries it with him as a reminder that my home is his. That we share a home.

The key softly chinks against my ring, a ring I carry with pride. I remember the day we put them on, how solemnly it felt despite us sitting in our kitchen windowsill in our sweatpants. We'd been searching for weeks to find the perfect rings that would be just right. We never did. Until we stepped into a small jewelry shop in the Village. We got to talking to the owner, and as it turned out, he designed jewelries himself. We described what we were looking for and with our visions in mind, he designed and manufactured our rings.

They're one of a kind, just like our love, with their rose gold inner band and a brushed platinum outer band, with a wave groove running all the way around allowing the rose gold to show through. We wanted a wave pattern because it would forever remind us of the beach where I asked Blaine to marry me, but also because waves are one of the strongest, most powerful, natural forces on earth. They symbolize strength, inevitability and completeness. Just like our love for each other.

"Do you ever feel tempted?" Blaine asks, staring out the window at the city below us while running his fingers through his hair.

His question feels out of place, but then again he doesn't know the thoughts running through my mind.

"I know I shouldn't ask after the whole Elliot conversation we had before," Blaine continues, "but I think I need to hear you say it."

I grip his chin and bring his eyes back to mine. "Never, baby," I say, letting go of his chin and lacing my fingers with his instead. I bring our hands to my lips and kiss his ring.

Blaine relaxes into me, resting his head in the crook of my neck. His soft kisses tingle on my skin, and a shiver runs through me as we sit there in silence, watch the cars drive by below, and enjoy the peace that comes after reassuring words.

I don't know why we keep doubting each other. I know he loves me deeply and he knows I love him with all that I have. Maybe that's why. Because we know what it's like to lose that love. We know the heartache and the misery, the feeling of nothing making sense without the other, and we fear of it happening again. I want to get past it. I want to have complete trust in him no matter the circumstances. Maybe this trip is a step towards that.

A knock on the door and a male voice calling out _room service_ , breaks our moment. Blaine lets out a small disgruntled sound but stands up, cover falling to the floor, to open the door.

I catch his arm before he can take a single step. "You're naked, baby, let me."

He glances down at his body, then back at me with a small smile. I've seen him naked hundreds of times but the sight of his lean body - his toned chest, well defined abs and strong thighs - still leaves me awestruck. Everything about him is beautiful, even his flaccid cock, although it twitches under my scrutinizing gaze.

I stand up, give him a peck on his cheek and move to open the door. I hear Blaine settle back down in the armchair, pulling the cover back up to cover his body and I wonder when he got so skinny. Even if his body is well toned, I could see his hip and collarbones poke out, they didn't before. Not before he left New York. I saw it earlier too, in the shower, and it's one of the reason I insisted we order pancakes. I worry what this tour life is doing to him. If he's neglecting to take care of himself.

I wonder if he mulls too much about things he doesn't need to mull about. Or if his schedule is just too hectic and packed to give him time to eat and recover. I think I know which one it is and I'll be keeping a close eye on him these days to make sure he's happy and taken care of.

I open the door in my robe to let in the servant, the smell of freshly baked pancakes immediately filling the room as he rolls in the cart. I tip him before he leaves, locking the door behind him as he goes. It's an unnecessary gesture, I know, but I can't help that it gives me a sense of safety. No unwanted visitor, in the unlikely event that someone should get hold of a keycard to our room, can walk in on us. With a locked door, we can lock out the world and be in our bubble.

"It smells delicious," Blaine says when I'm by his side. He does look happy, a big giddy smile spreads across his face as he breathes in and the pancake aroma fills his senses. It gives some peace to my worried heart.

"Get up," I say in a soft voice. When his questioning eyes fall on me, I add, "I liked having you in my lap."

Without hesitation, he stands up to let me reclaim my seat. I pull him down on my lap, and nuzzling into his neck, I breathe him in. I like his smell much better than the pancakes'. He giggles when my nose tickles his sensitive skin, and I wrap my arms around him in a tight hug.

"I love you," I whisper into his back. _Please never change._

"I love you too." He still giggles, but there's a tenderness in his voice that has my heart beating just a little bit faster. He turns his head to kiss me. His lips are smooth against mine as his tongue lazily plays with mine in the most tender of kisses.

Blaine then feeds me pancakes. He insists I let him take care of me. I don't argue, I don't say I should be the one taking care of him, that he's the one who's given his all on stage tonight, because this makes him happy.

He's smiling and laughing as he tries to feed me pancakes with strawberry syrup without making a mess, but the syrup keeps dripping down his fingers, making them sticky. I lick him clean, which has Blaine squirming in my lap, his ass repeatedly brushing against my cock. I don't want to leave this moment for sex though, I'd like to keep this carefree, relaxed - happy - Blaine for a little while longer. I sit up straighter and move him a small distance away from my groin.

"Is there a problem, Snuggy?" He asks, trying to hide his smug smile but not doing a very good job at it, and feeds me another piece of pancake.

"Nope," I answer, refraining from licking his fingers this time. The lemon and strawberry flavors falls pleasantly on my tongue and I emit a small moan. "No problem at all." I let my tongue trace along my lips to catch any remains of the sticky syrup.

Blaine's eyes follow the motion with intense interest, his gaze turning lustful as he bites down on his lip. I do it again, just to tease him. He unconsciously mimics my movement, licking his own lower lip. I immediately stop because I'm right back to where I didn't want to be. Instead, I lean in and place a kiss on his lips.

"You were brilliant upon that stage tonight," I say.

"Yeah?" A slight blush creeps up on his cheeks.

"Seeing you up there, it took my breath away. I had to restrain myself from running up on stage and kiss you."

"You shouldn't have," Blaine says and winks.

"As much as I like entertaining your fans, that's not really what they paid to see."

He lets out a laugh. "I guess not, but I think some would have paid extra to see that. You know they love you."

"Some of them at least."

"The others we don't have to think about," Blaine says and kisses me. "Would it be okay if I posted a picture of us together?"

"Sure." By now, his fans should already know I'm here with him, and it wouldn't be the first time he posts a photo of us. I'm slowly easing into this whole public aspect of our relationship, and even if it's still odd, it's not as weird as it once was.

"I just want to show everybody how happy you make me."

"Just not tonight. Tonight you're only mine."

"Fair enough. Wouldn't want to show them this side of you with your hair all unruly and messy anyway," he says and pokes his tongue out at me and ruffles my hair.

"Hey!" I say with mocked dismay and remove his hand. "I reserve this look for your eyes only, you should feel blessed."

"Oh, I feel _very_ blessed," Blaine teases, but I sense he means the words because right after he leans in and kisses me for minutes.

"You really liked the concert?" Blaine asks when he ends the kiss.

"It was so intense and soulful, and I could barely sit still. I think it was evident to everyone around me how proud I was of you. How proud I was to be yours."

" _Kurt..._ " Blaine sighs and snuggles closer, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. "I'm so happy you're here."

"I'm happy to be here. So very happy, baby."

"I wish we could stay like this forever."

I believe him when he says it. Blaine has always been the dreamer, the one wanting to escape from reality. I've always been the more realistic one. But in this moment I refrain from commenting on the impossibility of his statement. Instead, I pull him nearer and let my hand soothe over his skin.

I feel all of his tight muscles under my fingertips, his hip bone jutting out, his v-line… and now I remember that he's naked under the thick cover that's draped around us, keeping us warm. My fingers dance lightly over his cock, making it stir awake.

"Ready to go to bed?" Blaine mumbles into my neck with the soft, gentle voice that normally means he's in cuddle mode. Tonight though, I hope it means something else.

"Absolutely. After tooth brushing."

Blaine groans and mutters something about adulting and me being a killjoy, but he still gets up on his feet and reaches for my hand to pull me up. He then leads me, in all his naked glory, towards the bathroom.

We brush our teeth, like responsible adults, but I can't say I'm not completely distracted by Blaine's naked ass right in front of me the entire time. It's firm and toned and right there, and I've missed being close to it.

I place my hands on his hips and step in close, pressing my groin against him. When he bends down to spit out his toothpaste, I'm pretty sure he deliberately pushes his ass backwards a little extra to press his ass firmer against my cock, and I go from a semi to a full erection in seconds.

He acts casual, like nothing is out of the ordinary, but I know he knows exactly what he's doing to me. I love his playfulness though, and gripping firmer on his hips, I press my cock against ass with more determination than before.

Despite the robe separating us from skin to skin contact, I know he can feel just how hard he makes me from the way his breath hitches and the glances he casts to my toiletry bag.

"Thank God you came prepared," he murmurs while pressing back and letting out a muffled moan.

"What was that, love?" I ask even though I heard what he said and know what he means. I reach around him, take his hard cock in my hand and start stroking him languidly. My hand moves slowly up and down his length, teasingly, with a pressure that I know isn't quite enough. I wish I was naked too so I could feel his warm body against mine. Our eyes connect through the bathroom mirror in front of us.

"I didn't have a… _mmm_ … reason to bring… _fuck…_ lube with me when I left…" Blaine pants, rubbing his ass against my cock again and again. All while I continue to stroke him. "And I really want to feel you inside me… _shit…_ like now, and… _oh, God Kurt_ … I'm glad you brought lube because I so do not want to call the front desk about that. _Fuck…"_

He turns around, his fingers fumbling with the knot on my robe, eager to have me naked too.

I like him like this, all desperate for me, but as eager as I am to have his fingers on me, I place my hands on his and tell him, "Slow down, baby, we've got time."

"I don't care," Blaine growls, shrugging off my hands. "You've made me wait for an hour to get you into my bed. I don't want to wait any longer."

He continues to work on the knot until he's able to untie it (which is no hard task at all when it comes down to it). The robe is slid off my shoulders, and then I'm as naked as he is, my cock jutting out. Blaine is quick to step into my space, close enough to have his cock lining up along mine.

"Let me take care of you tonight," he says, his hazel eyes pleading with me.

"O-okay," I stammer, my heart racing and my cock twitching with anticipation.

Grabbing the lube bottle in one hand, and me in the other, he leads me out to bed. The room is still completely dark except for the lights coming from the city outside the windows, giving it an ethereal and mystical feeling. He lays me down in a half sitting position against the headboard, making sure I have enough pillows to be comfortable.

Hovering over me, he places a kiss on my lips before trailing kisses on my body as he moves down. He makes sure to cover my torso with soft kisses mixed with licks and gentle nibbles. Goosebumps soon covers my skin from the wet marks left all over my upper body. I love the tenderness he's showing me, love how he pays attention to the sounds I'm making and gives extra care to the spots that make me squirm and moan. My words must have gotten to him because he's in no hurry to finish his re-acquaintances with my body.

Seven weeks is a long time to be away from the person you love, the one that matters more to you than anyone else in this world, and having him showing me this much affection and attention is everything. I trace my fingers through his hair and down his back to show him that I'm here with him, enjoying every second of his meticulous exploration.

Licking his way down my belly, placing kisses on each hipbone and trailing several kisses on my inner thighs, he has me squirming and desperate for more, for him to pay attention to the main attraction. But Blaine has other plans as he bends my knees and pushes my legs upwards. His kisses moves from my thighs to my ass cheeks and then, _oh fuck!,_ his tongue is licking along my hole and his attention _this_ attraction is also good. _So very good_.

His licks are long and slow, just the way he knows I like it. When the tip of his tongue pushes inside, I clutch the sheet with both hands and call out his name in pleasure. My hips involuntarily bucks up, causing my ass to swallow more of his tongue. It's what happens every time Blaine rims me, and I know how much he loves it, how it makes him eager to stretch me more so that his cock can finally push inside me.

But again, Blaine has other plans for me this night. With a final lick across my hole, his tongue moves to my balls, sucking each one gently into his mouth before moving on.

He licks his way up along the underside of my cock, dipping his tongue into my slit and taste the bead of pre-cum gathered there. Just before he's about to take the tip of my cock into his mouth he looks up at me, connecting our eyes. The sight is mesmerizing. My Blaine with his parted lips hovering just above my cock is too beautiful for words and I have to restrain myself from pushing into his mouth. It's all I can think about now, his warm mouth engulfing my cock.

 _It's been seven weeks!_

More pre-cum spills out of me and Blaine takes it all with his greedy tongue while still keeping eye contact. I'm so painfully hard in this moment, wanting nothing more than for him to go on but at the same time loving the feeling of him lingering above me, looking at me like I'm so very precious to him.

When he finally closes his lips around the head of my cock, pressing his tongue against the cluster of nerves just below the head, the sight is too much. The way he makes me feel, the pleasure he gives me and the sight of him sucking me is too much all at ones. The only thing I can shut out is the vision of him slowly going up and down my erection. I close my eyes and lean my head back against the pillows, but I still _feel_ everything his mouth is doing to me - that's a sensation I don't ever want to shut out.

He moves down slowly, with his lips tight around my cock, sucking me hard, taking me as deep as he can before slowly moving up again. Then he repeats the motion all over again. And again. His tongue press hard against the vein and that amazing spot just below the head, and it takes everything I have to lie still and not push deep into his throat.

" _Fuck…_ you're so good to me, baby," I breathe out, my fingers loosely tugging at his hair, not too hard or too controlling, just with enough force to have him moaning around my cock and sucking a little harder. " _S-so good…"_

He pulls off and comes up to catch my whimper with a kiss, pressing his tongue between my lips. I taste myself on his tongue and it's a heady feeling, it always is.

"I love having you in my mouth," Blaine whispers with a slight hoarseness. "I love tasting you, it's been fucking forever."

I whimper, because of his words and because his cock is rubbing against mine. Blaine thrusts his hips down, grinding against me and _fuck_ that feels good.

" _Oh God,_ " I moan, thrusting back, " _please_ let me fuck you." _Soon. Now! Forget what I said about slowing down and having time._

"Patience, my love," Blaine purrs while rocking his hips against mine with slow steady motions, making our cocks rub against each other in the most heavenly way.

 _How did he go from needy to being the patron of restraint when I went in the complete opposite direction?_

"You must be tired from travelling and working hard all week so that you could come to me. Please let me take care of you tonight, it's the least I can do." Blaine's puppy dog eyes gives me no other option than to nod. I can't resist him when he looks at me like that and he knows it.

"I need you inside me just as much as you need to be inside me," Blaine continues, thrusting a little harder this time, making me moan and nod again. "So I will ride you and you will lie there and let me give you exactly what you want."

" _Fuck, Blaine…_ " I pull him in for a kiss. There are simply not enough words to tell him how much I love him, how much he turns me on and how much I'm dying to have him sink down on me. A kiss - a messy, all tongue and no finesse kiss - will have to convey all of that, together with a simple (and slightly out of place), "I'm so hard right now, baby."

"Me too," Blaine smirks back. Then he sits back and reaches for the lube bottle. I reach out to take it from him, but he pushes my hand away. "Lie back and enjoy the show, Snuggy."

It's not often I get treated to this show, but every time it happens it leaves me torn. Torn between watching because he's _fucking hot_ , and between participating because, _damn_ , I'd like those fingers to be mine.

Blaine coats his fingers with lube and slowly eases one finger into himself, all while never breaking eye contact. And it's that, his eyes constantly on mine, that has me breathing deep and my cock dripping more pre-cum. I want to reach out and touch him, to take his cock in my hand and stroke him, but something tells me I shouldn't, that he wants to put on this show for me to watch without participating. It is truly breath-catching show, far more erotic than any porn I've ever watched.

The sounds he makes while adding a second finger has my fingers itching to replace his. I want to stretch him and feel his tight ass clench around my fingers. But this won't be my last chance to finger him this visit, so my hands remain where they are.

After some more lube and stretching, he deems himself ready for me. When his lube coated fingers start stroking my cock, I'm more than ready to be inside him. He fingering himself has left my cock rock hard and eagerly anticipating the next step. His hand on me sends shivers of pleasure up my spine and I buck up to meet his hand.

"So eager for me," Blaine coos.

"After that show and weeks without you, can you really blame me? _Shit..._ " I ask in a shaky breath that raises slightly at the end as he does a twitching motion with his hand.

"You're so beautiful like this," Blaine says, taking a second to look at me.

"Please don't make me beg," I plead. "I need you now, baby." I trail my index finger down the middle of his chest and abdomen, my fingers finally folding around his cock, giving it a few strokes.

" _Fuck…_ uhm… okay, no more waiting. And no more touching. This is for you" Blaine says and removes my hand. "Besides, if you do that, this will be over way sooner than either of us want."

I smile at him, all too familiar with the feeling of not wanting to be the one that comes too soon.

Blaine takes my cock and aligns the tip just under his hole, then he slowly, oh so slowly, starts sinking down on me. All I can do is breath. _God, I've missed this._ I feel as I'm right where I belong. Inside Blaine, for all eternity.

" _Fuck, yes…"_ Blaine bites down on his lip as he inch by inch swallows my cock. "I know this is for you, but _fuck_ this feels good." He places his hands on my chest and starts moving up and down, every time I push a little bit deeper into him.

"You're _so_ tight, baby," I breathe out, feeling his tight muscles clench around my cock. "This is... _Oh God…_ This is… _fuck…"_ is all I manage to get out. Everything is pure pleasure from here on.

I try to compose myself, try to control my breathing, but the heat building inside me by Blaine slowly rising and falling on top of me, is too all-consuming for me to do anything other than give in to it and just let go of all restraints (not that there are many between us). My moans are loud, louder than Blaine's, but the way he rides me with his ass squeezing tighter every time he bottoms out, I just can't help myself.

" _Yes… right there… shit…"_ Blaine lets out as if he's not the one directing the speed or how much of me is inside of him. " _Just like that..."_ he mumbles again as he slams down hard and digs his fingernails into my shoulders.

I open my eyes to take in the sight in front of me. It's a truly beautiful sight. Blaine's eyes are closed and a content smile plays on his lips. His head is tipped slightly backwards and his fingernails still digs into my shoulders. And as icing on the cake, as if it wasn't already clear to me how much he's enjoying himself, I see his cock leak pre-cum. His thick cock, which bounces off my belly every time he sinks down.

I run my thumb over the small droplets left on my stomach and press it against Blaine's lips. As much as I would like to taste him myself, I know what this does to him. He reacts immediately by parting his lips and sucking my thumb into his mouth. He moans around my thumb, sucking and licking it as if it was my cock. When it's thoroughly licked clean, he removes my hand and leans down to kiss me, letting me taste as well.

He slows his action to a stop while kissing me, concentrating at one thing at the time. I take the opportunity to grab his ass and thrust deep into him.

" _Fuck, Kurt!"_ Blaine calls, unprepared for my action. " _Oh God, that's so good…"_ he continues when I go on and slam into him again, faster and harder this time. His hands move to the headboard, framing my face, as he leans his forehead against mine. His breathing comes out as groans and whimpers as I continue to work my cock into his ass.

"W-wait, stop," Blaine says and sits up.

"What's wrong, baby?" I ask immediately.

"I'm taking care of you tonight. You shouldn't be doing this."

"Please, let me do something," I say. "I can't just lie here and let you do all the work."

"Yes you can, I want you to," Blaine says and gently removes my hands from his ass.

"But I don't want to. We're a team, Blaine, we do things together. That's our thing, that's what I love about us. It's never just about you or just about me. It's always about us."

Blaine looks down at me, his hazel eyes blown wide with lust. "God, I love you so much," he whispers before leaning down and kissing me again.

When he sits back up, he takes my hand and guides it to his cock. "Please touch me," he begs.

I fold my fingers around him, loving the heaviness of it in my hand, and start stroking him. With my thumb I smear his pre-cum across the head, making the glide so much smoother, before I increase my speed in my effort to bring him as much pleasure as possible.

Blaine's hips move with new energy. With his hands back on my shoulders, he rides me faster and harder than before. By the sounds he's making it's obvious he's hitting that one good spot over and over again.

" _Fuck, Kurt!... oh God… yes… don't stop… just… fuck…"_ Blaine rambles.

I don't know how I've lasted this long, but by the way my stomach clenches I know I won't last much longer. My fingers work swiftly up and down his cock, stroking and pulling and twisting, spurred on by his moans and my own impending release.

A few seconds later Blaine's hips stutter and falter as he groans out his orgasm. Cum spurts out of his cock, decorating my stomach and chest. I stroke him through his release, hard at first but softer as he grows more sensitive. It's beautiful to watch and with a few more thrust of my own, I come buried deep in his ass moaning his name.

Blaine rests his palms on my shoulders, beads of sweat pearling on his forehead, catching his breath. I let go of his cock and move my hands up to cover his cheeks and pull him into a deep kiss.

"Thank you," I whisper.

"You did half the job," Blaine smiles back, his eyes glistening.

"Thank you for loving me."

* * *

 **Blaine**

Back in bed after a quick shower, I lie in Kurt's arms and listen to his even heartbeat. As much as I love our decision to not use condoms, a shower afterwards is no longer something I can skip because I'm too tired. Kurt joined me, just as reluctant as I to part even for just a few minutes.

Kurt cards his fingers through my hair, pulling on a curl every now and then before letting it go again. He rubs his nose slowly against mine in the most tender and intimate way. My eyelids are heavy and a yawn slips past my lips. The siren from a fire engine sounds in the distance and the air-conditioner hums the corner in the otherwise quiet room.

Peaceful – that's how I feel in this moment. Kurt is here and we have talked through all of the worries that we've unfoundedly carried around with us. I know now that we are strong, there's nothing that can break what we have. Another yawn slips out. I close my eyes and begin to drift off.

"Do you ever feel like drinking again?" Kurt asks into the silent darkness.

I tense for just a second, suddenly wide awake, and remember last night. _Did Jeff tell him?_ I don't want to talk about it with Kurt. I'm ashamed. It hasn't been an issue, not even a near temptation. Until last night when it was a very real craving. A second is enough for Kurt to notice though, and he shifts so that we're lying face to face.

"Did Jeff tell you something?" I ask, rubbing the back of my neck.

"What?" Kurt looks confused. "No, but why-?"

"Why do you wonder?" I ask, immediately regretting the harshness in my tone.

He removes my hand from my neck, lace our fingers together and take a deep breath. "I feel as though I should know, but we've never talked about it in any of our calls since you went on tour. I guess that's my fault because I never asked because I wanted to spend those few precious minutes making you happy and giving you space to breathe. But I feel like a crappy boyfriend for not asking because what if it is a problem but you put it aside because you don't want to talk about it. But if I'd ask about it, it would have made all the difference. That's why I ask."

"You're not a crappy boyfriend, Kurt," I assure him with a smile. "You're my perfect fiancé."

Kurt's smile in return is brief before he continues. "I know what tour life was like for you before, and I figured there would be a lot more temptations and availability here than at home."

Then he adds in a worried tone, " _Did_ something happen?"

This is a real concern of his, and there's no real reason for me not to tell him the truth, other than my own guilt and that's not really a valid reason.

 _We're a team, Blaine._ Kurt's words echo in my head. It's true. We're getting married and we're going to share the good and the bad for the rest of our lives. He knows me better than anyone. He knows all of my faults and missteps, and I have to trust that one more thing isn't going to change how he feels about me.

"I used to drink to forget about the pain I felt from not being with you," I start to remind him. It wasn't the tours in themselves that made me drink. "I haven't felt like drinking since I left you in New York. Not that there's any alcohol in my presence, Jeff makes sure of that, but even if there were I haven't felt any desire to drink because you've always been there, reassuring me of us even if you're miles away. But then last night…"

Kurt's eyes never leave me, but he stays quiet for a while and I know he's wondering what happened last night that could have set this off. His thumb brush repeatedly across the skin on the back of my hand.

"Because of Elliot?" Kurt asks in the end, his mind drawing the conclusion closest at hand.

"Because I thought I was losing you. I felt desperate for something to drink because I felt as though I couldn't breathe. I had all those images of the two of you together in our apartment and I let my mind wander. I was so sure it was over, that me being away was driving you into Elliot's arms."

"I'm never saying goodbye to you, Blaine. I love you too much to let you go," Kurt repeats his words from earlier tonight. "I hope you know how true that is."

"I feel embarrassed for thinking like that. I know you love me, and I should have had more faith in us. But mostly I feel ashamed for immediately wanting to turn to alcohol to block everything out. After all this time, after everything I've gone through, I should be stronger than that. I thought I was healing, that I _was_ healed, but I'm not…"

"And maybe you never will be, but that's okay," Kurt soothes.

"But I'm not okay with it! It's been almost a year, and still that was my immediate reaction!"

"Exactly, Blaine, it's _only_ been one year. Relapses are always a possibility, even after many tears. Don't you remember Dr. Asher telling us that?"

I nod slowly and recall the session Kurt joined me at therapy at Dr. Asher's insistence.

"These things take time," Kurt continues, "and the important thing is that you didn't drink anything. Because you didn't, right?"

"No, I didn't but only because there weren't any alcohol in the room and because Jeff came and made me see some sense in the situation." Even if I don't appreciate him not telling me in that moment that Kurt was coming to see me, I am grateful for the way he looks out for me and takes care of me. Our friendship grows stronger every day, and I need to think of a way to repay him for everything he has done for me.

"But you know what? Even if you had relapsed, we would have gotten through that too. It would have been a fall backwards but I would have been there to catch you."

I vow to myself to never drink a single drop of alcohol in my life ever again. I have vowed it before, but this time it's with a new determination. I love Kurt with all that I am, but I don't want him to have to catch me when I make this fall. I don't want to put him through that.

"I'm the luckiest guy in the world," I tell him and kiss him.

"You always say that, but I disagree. I believe that title belongs to me," Kurt says and winks.

"I don't know what I've done to deserve you," I chuckle. I truly feel like the luckiest guy right now. Kurt being cheesy is one of the reasons.

"From now on I will make sure I'm clear with what I'm thinking when I meet new people or spend too much time with one person." Kurt's determination is admirable, but this is not how I want our relationship to be.

"You shouldn't have to do that. You can spend time with anyone you want to, Kurt." I never want to turn into the jealous or controlling boyfriend. I should learn how to trust instead.

"If it keeps you from feeling the way you did last night, it's my duty as your future husband to do that. I don't want me or anything I do or forget to say when it comes to other men to be a trigger for you. I feel really bad for not even considering it could be a trigger..."

"Okay, Kurt, let's just let this go. Both of us feeling guilty isn't really helping anyone."

"But-"

"No, Kurt, please. Not tonight, we're both tired, and we've had enough of hard conversations for one night, don't you think? Tell me something fun instead." I can't talk more about it tonight, the wound is still too fresh and I need some time to think about why it happened before I bring it up in conversation with Kurt again.

Kurt seems hesitant, like he thinks there's more to be discussed. In the end he lets it go though. Sort of at least.

"Do we worry too much?" Kurt wonders.

"Definitely," I answer. We've both been worrying for nothing when it is clear, and should have been clear to us all along, how much we mean to each other. How neither of us would do anything to risk that.

"It's not that I don't trust you," Kurt adds, twisting my ring between his fingers. "I guess I'm just scared of all the things that could happen, realistic or not."

"It's the same for me," I say, knowing just how true that is. "You're my everything, Kurt, and the thought of not being with you is what freaks me out. I can't go back to that place. I don't think I'd make it out alive." Just thinking about losing Kurt again leaves a hollow feeling in my chest.

"Have we reassured each other enough?" Kurt asks, his hand squeezing mine.

"I think so. I hope so."

"Good, because I don't want you to have to worry about anything when it comes to me."

"I won't, I promise," I say and kiss him. "Now, please, tell me something uplifting. I want to fall asleep with happy thoughts."

A smug smile spreads across Kurt's face. "Okay, okay. I have got _the_ best gossip."

"Tell me, tell me," I urge him.

"Okay, you are going to love this! You know how in love Sam was with Zoe, and how heartbroken he was when she broke up with him?" Kurt starts and I nod hesitantly, unsure how Sam's sorrow will turn into something I will love. "And how he took time off from work around Easter and spent several days with us in New York?"

I remember Sam feeling too sad to work, and like everything back home reminded him of her. He needed an escape and I offered him to come visit us for the weekend.

"And how we didn't really have time to spend with him because of work so we kind of forced him on our friends?"

I unfortunately remember that too and feel very guilty about it.

"Soo… It turns out one of our friends treated him to a little extra TLC…"

By the process of elimination I know that that friend was not Rachel (dating Finn), Santana (lesbian), or Sebastian (gay, which as far as I know Sam is not). That leaves only two options.

"Ali or Rose?" I ask.

"Guess."

"Rose," I say after contemplating the two alternatives. "She probably got him telling her all of his problems, right?" She's good at that, getting people to open up and then taking care of them when they break down. She did it with me, it wouldn't surprise me if she did just that with Sam too.

"Wrong."

"Really?" I say and scrunch my nose. "Ali?"

"Seems they've been keeping in touch during the spring, and when she went back to Lima to visit her parents a few weeks ago, they became more than friends."

"Wow, that's… awesome!" I exclaim. "But why hasn't Sam told me anything about it? I talked to him last week."

"I don't know. Because it's new maybe and if it doesn't work out they don't want to put us in an awkward position. That's at least the explanation Ali gave me."

"But she told you?"

"Well… not exactly. I might have forced her to tell me," Kurt smiles innocently. "She was constantly texting someone on her phone, wearing a lovesick grin. She said it was nothing, but it continued for days. I might have taken her phone and threatened that if she didn't tell me I would go through all of her messages. Apparently, she didn't want that because she told me. It didn't take a lot of convincing though, I think she was dying to tell someone."

"Sam and Ali…" I say, trying to picture them together in front of me. "It actually makes a lot of sense. They're both carefree and spontaneous, but very caring at heart."

"They're the kind of couple you know will never be on time for anything," Kurt laughs. "I just hope Ali won't break his heart, she's never been serious about anyone before."

"I actually don't think she would get involved with a friend of ours if she wasn't serious about him." I've gotten to know her quite well in the past ten months since we made some sort of truce in Rose's pub just after Kurt and I got back together. "But what about the distance? He lives in Lima and she in New York. How will they make it work?"

"Now you sound like eighteen year old me, baby," Kurt says with laughter in his voice. "It's 2018, we're all adults and not teenagers anymore. I'm sure they'll figure it out."

His words make me smile. It's funny how life as it unfolds before you can completely change the way you view certain things, while others remain the same forever.

"I have to call Sam tomorrow and get him to tell me all the details."

"What happened to your phone anyway," Kurt asks, glancing at the nightstand. "Did you drop it?"

"Not exactly…" I answer and think about all the cracks on the screen. "It had an accident… I might need you to visit an Apple store and get me a new one tomorrow." I lean in to give him a quick kiss.

"Okaay… will you tell me what happened to it?"

"Maybe tomorrow." It's late, there has been enough talk about Elliot and the confusion and hurt that brought on.

"Tell me how Dad is doing instead then," Kurt says, moving on.

"Why do you ask me, he's your dad."

"He's yours too, Blaine. Besides, he calls you more often than he does me. He worries about you, you know, just as much as I do."

I hate that they feel the need to worry about me, but they're my family and that's what we do in our family. We worry and we love. We worry because we care. With them I've learnt what it really means to have a supporting family that looks out for you and love you no matter what.

Burt's kind of cute about the calls. He tries to pretend that they're all random, but by now I've figured out he calls me on two weekdays on his lunch break, and then one more time during the weekend.

"He's good, I talked to him yesterday. He said he and Carole are planning to come to New York after my tour is over."

"Oh, that's nice. It's been a while since we last saw them," Kurt says and pulls me in close, tangling his legs with mine. "I can't wait for this tour to be over," he whispers in a sleep-filled voice.

"Me too," I whisper back, enjoying being wrapped up in Kurt and longing for days when this becomes normality again.

"Sing me to sleep, please, baby?"

"What do you want me to sing?"

"Well, it this is the _Starlight_ -tour, it wouldn't be right if I didn't ask you to sing that song."

"It has nothing to do with how much you love that song or what it reminds you of?" I tease.

"Not at all."

I wrote _Starlight_ after Kurt and I returned from the Bahamas, and this song will forever remind me of the days we spent there and of our decision to spend the rest of our days together.

 _Only me and you in a mess together  
 _Only me and you tonight, tonight, tonight  
 _I wanna be with you on the run forever  
 _Or maybe we could fly, tonight, tonight, tonight____

 _No matter where we go, no matter where we are  
 _No matter if it's cold, you're by my side  
 _Tonight we're high on love  
 _Tonight we're high on starlight, starlight, starlight____

I sing the words softly in a much more toned down version than I normally perform on stage. My voice is tender and barely more than a whisper. I close my eyes and dream back to that magical, star lit night when Kurt asked me to marry him.

 _There's nowhere to run to, baby  
 _There's nowhere tonight, tonight tonight  
 _I don't care 'cause we can make it out somehow  
 _Oh baby, make me fly, tonight, tonight, tonight____

By the time I get to the end, Kurt is sound asleep, his grip on me loosened, but still tight enough for me to feel him everywhere around me.

"Goodnight, Snuggy," I whisper and place a kiss on his forehead. "Thank you for letting me love you."

* * *

 **Notes:**  
The song _Starlight_ is not written by Blaine or by me. It's a song by Anna Ritsmar that I listened to a lot while writing the epilogue for Beautiful Mess. If you have a few minutes over and want to listen to the song, please do. The lyrics alone doesn't do the feeling of the song justice (as is often the case).

I wouldn't mind if you'd let me know what you think about _Starlight_ :)


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